


You Have Just Killed A Man

by prettybirdy979



Series: Trope Bingo Fills [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first times John and Sherlock killed a man (as far as the Yard is concerned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have Just Killed A Man

**Author's Note:**

> For the First Time/Last Time square on my trope bingo.

John’s first kill on the streets of London was well documented by the police, even if they didn’t know it was his. The perfectly fired shot of an experienced marksman; unsuited to their mental images of the mild mannered doctor Sherlock dragged along. Even when forensics matched the bullet to those of another Sherlock related crime scene with the Golem no one bothered to look at John. Mycroft quietly got John the credentials to carry his gun; just in case.

This all changed when Sherlock got himself held at knifepoint in front of the Yard and John.

‘Stand back. Stand back!’ The smuggler screamed. He had been hiding out in a skip at their latest crime scene and Sherlock had stumbled upon him. Or attempted to ambush him but without the support of everyone else, it had backfired and now there was a knife at his throat that drew a drop of blood every time he tried to talk.

Lestrade was trying to talk him down.‘Look, you need to let him go. You’re not a murderer-’ Sherlock made a small disagreeing  noise and John’s blood ran cold as he took in the implications of what Sherlock was saying.

‘Shut up! Or I’ll slit his throat.’

John reached for the gun, hidden in his waistband. Lestrade caught the movement. ‘John, what are you doing?’

John drew his gun and all the police officers stiffened. ‘John-’

‘I’ve a license.’ John muttered, his eyes on the smugglers suddenly wide ones. ‘Let him go.’ He said coldly.

The man seemed to assess John and started to grin. ‘Or what, you’ll kill me?’

‘Yes.’

He laughed and then he reached into his pocket and there was a glint of metal in his non-knife holding hand. Sherlock saw the look in John’s eyes and turned himself into deadweight, dropping to the ground as John pulled the trigger.

The shot was in the middle of his forehead.

As soon as John saw that, he dropped his gun and held his hands up. ‘He had a gun.’

Lestrade had raced to Sherlock’s side as soon as the shot was fired and grabbed at the hand. ‘He did!’ He confirmed, looking at John in horrified awe.

‘Self defence.’ Sherlock declared, having not moved from his place on the ground where he was now watching the faces of the police. ‘And preserving the life of another.’

Donovan found her voice. ‘You’re a _doctor_.’

John stared at her in confusion. ‘I’m a soldier too.’

He never faced court which no one in the Yard found surprising as any charges just seemed to vanish within moments of them being filed.

********

The first time Sherlock killed a man wasn’t as dramatic as either of John’s firsts.

They hadn’t been on a case, nor doing anything more than walking home from Angelo’s when Sherlock had gotten a text and paused, leaving John to walk ahead a few paces. But then John had cried out and Sherlock had looked up to see him being dragged into an alleyway by three men.

Terrified and angry, Sherlock had followed them.

John was being held by two men while the other one frisked him, looking for a wallet or phone. Sherlock didn’t pause, just threw himself at that man giving John the chance to pull free of one captor and fling them at the other man.

However the force behind Sherlock’s lunge had his man falling backwards to the ground. His eyes went wide as he landed, then he huffed and didn’t breathe again. Sherlock stared down at him in surprise even as his companions saw the unmoving body and fled.

‘Sherlock?’

‘He’s dead.’ Sherlock said and hated himself for making such a simplistic statement. He hurried to add to it. ‘This alleyway is littered with glass and nails. If you were to turn him over, you would find he has one of those in his brain having fallen at the exact angle for it to lodge in there. The probabili-’

John suddenly pulled his friend into a hug. ‘I know Sherlock. Come sit down while I call Lestrade. Pull your coat tighter, you’ll be okay.’

‘I know I will.’ Sherlock said confused even as his hands began to shake.

‘You sure? You did just kill a man.’

Sherlock felt a tiny bit of him relax at the familiar words. ‘Well, he wasn’t a very nice man.’

His hands still shook.


End file.
